Burning the Gates Down
by Mae34
Summary: His brother was gone. He was left behind. Sam deals with a lifetime of consequences. (Post-Season 9 spoilers)
1. Burning the Gates Down

"Hello, Moose."

Sam knew.

Sam knew that something was wrong the moment Crowley appeared _behind_ him and not in the trap.

When he turned around and Crowley gave him a smirk... well, if that wasn't ominous, he didn't know what was.

"Time to howl," was all Crowley said before he disappeared.

Sam booked it down the hall to the room where he left his brother's...where he left his brother.

_No, no, no, no._

It was too late. Dean was gone, leaving nothing behind except for the stench of sulfur and blood-soaked sheets.

* * *

He heard the rumors.

There were whispers about a new demon in Hell, one shaking their very foundations and bringing on a new era to the demons.

He's not stupid enough to deny who this new demon might be.

* * *

Sam never returned to the bunker and didn't plan on returning for awhile. Instead, he sat on the hood of the Impala, parked on top a hill and watched the corn below sway in the breeze.

He felt there was a parallel between now and where he was the first time Dean went to Hell all those years ago. Sam recalled the hot-headed kid he once was. He remembered screaming at the Heavens, throwing bottles of whiskey against the pavement and believing the world should burn for what it's done to them. They, at least, deserved that.

Sam pulled a slow sip from his amber bottle. He hadn't said a single word since his brother's disappearance and, as the sun descended in a wave of orange and red into the horizon, Sam believed for a moment that the world was actually on fire.

* * *

It wasn't hard to kill a hell hound once Sam tracked it down. The problem was that it took six months to track one down. Each second searching was a second he risked being discovered.

The guy who sold his soul was already ripped to pieces (Sam could never be on time for the important stuff in life) and the dark form of a very large dog growled at the threat before it.

Sam faced the hound with nothing more than a knife, a pair of glasses and a determination to finish what he started.

That night, he bathed in blood.

* * *

It was harder to carry out the second part of this plan considering he already succeeded at it before. The first prison-break probably lifted the security to 'Def-con Winchester'.

On this, he needed help.

"Sam."

Cas looked tired and Sam couldn't say he was surprised. He was one of the surviving members of the Winchesters' allies and friends.

There weren't that many in the world left.

"Please, Cas." Sam already received the speech on stupid plans and self-sacrificing fools, but he didn't believe for a second that Castiel would deny him this.

Castiel sighed and sunk deeper into the chair.

"You've done it twice already," Sam continued.

"And it nearly destroyed me both times," Cas shot back. "Even if I were to tell you how I got in, who is down there to save, Sam? Dean is hardly an innocent soul at this point."

"He's also not my only brother down there."

* * *

Sam gazed at the building in front of him.

Within these four walls was where it all began; two little boys made a pact and the consequences of it burned them all.

Sam's body burned as well. The pain wasn't as bad as before and he wondered how much of the effects was from his cursed blood. Maybe, like a disease, the demon blood burned out of him the first time around.

"Hello, Sam."

Sam turned around. He didn't know when he and Death got so chummy but it was almost a comfort to see the slender, omniscient form there with him.

"Are you here-" Sam choked. "Are you here for me?"

He hoped so. Lives depended on him succeeding.

He also hoped Death would say 'no', but he pushed that feeling deep down to where all his other illusions resided.

"I'm here if you need me to be," Death answered.

Sam looked away, embarrassed at the consolation, and nodded.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Sam doesn't answer that. They both knew what he wanted was far from what he needed to do.

He turned back to the church and took a deep breath to brace himself.

"Please," Sam pleaded. "Remember your promise."

"Keeping that promise will be harder than you realize, Samuel Henry Winchester."

He doesn't know if it was being contradicted by Death or the use of his full name, a name he hadn't heard since his dad learned the power of names in spells, that made him look back in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know why your brother could never let you go? Or why angels strive to protect you? Why demons look at you with reverence?"

Sam looked at Death with some varying degrees of disbelief and doubt. "I'm not worth scraping off their shoe to any angel _or_ demon."

"An angel went to Hell on his own freewill to save you from the Cage. A demon volunteered to fight an angel to warn you about being possessed. Please don't contradict me, Sam."

Sam held up his hands to concede.

Death continued. "You are the truest essence of humanity. The truest I have ever seen in a long time."

There was a beat of silence before Sam burst out laughing. It wasn't until he realized he was the only one before he stopped and frowned.

"You're serious," Sam said in disbelief.

Death took a step forward and it took all Sam had in him to not step back.

"Very."

"But I've sinned. The demon blood. The Apocalypse. I betrayed my brother numerous times. I've...done so _much_ evil. How can you say I'm even human after all that?"

"You've made mistakes," Death agreed. "And you worked hard to redeem yourself for those transgressions. But there's nothing evil about that. Even during your darkest times, you've never lost what was most important; your faith...your hope...the light that keeps you moving."

Death took another step closer as if to study this strange anomaly.

"That is humanity. That is something to fear and something to protect."

And just like that Death's focus on Sam was gone. "I'll be here when you need me," he repeated. "But I have a feeling that your brother will make me break a promise I made. He is very determined person."

"Well...as long as he is a person."

"Good luck, Sam."

Sam nodded and, at Death's blessing, began to walk up the steps of the church and slowly opened the door.

He was afraid. He was more afraid to walk into that room than anything he's ever done.

Sam wondered if the desperation and fear from their last encounter here seeped into the rotting boards, stored it in the grain.

Sam wondered if its empathy will seep back in him.

There was a figure sitting in the middle of room, facing the back, trapped in a chair and waiting for Sam's next move.

"Sammy," the figure acknowledged without even trying to turn his head to see who it was.

Sam took a deep breath and walked in.

"Hello, Dean."


	2. The Road to Hell

Sam and Dean Winchester had both been to Hell and back numerous times throughout their lives. They made deals, they fell into pits, they ran from and walked down each and every path.

Even after all that. After the pain and muck and sludge that could never wash them clean, this here and this now...

This was their first trip down together.


	3. Level Eight

~Eight~Limbo~

"I must say, I like what you've done with the place. You've really added your own flair since the last time we were here."

Sam ignored the demon with his brother's face and, without any fanfare, walked to the podium at the back of the room and began his preparations. He took the syringe and drew a vial of blood from his glowing arms.

"No confessions? No professing of your sins to the one Almighty?" the demon noted. "I think you're missing a few steps here, Sammy. Not that I'm surprised since you never could do anything right." The demon noted the confessional behind him with a tilt of his head. "No need to worry. I'll wait right here."

Sam held the syringe in his hand in the ready position but held back from taking the first step towards the creature that was once his brother.

"I already said my confessions," Sam responded.

"Well, I must have been asleep when you did it because I didn't hear you." The demon sang like the words were a happy child's song.

"I said them outside. We're good."

"Are we?" the demon retorted. "I'm betting you didn't say your 'hail Mary's. That's not very Christian of you."

"We're good," Sam repeated in a firm tone that he hoped belied the emotions he felt inside.

"Yeah, yeah. Maybe you." The demon shrugged. "I stress the 'maybe'. Me...not so much."

Sam took a couple steps closer and his body tensed in preparation to his first attack. "We're going to change that, Dean."

The demon just gave Sam a big grin and a laugh. "Yeah, right. Abandon all hope, Sammy. We're going to go on one hell of a trip."

Sam responded by stabbing the syringe in the demon's neck.


	4. Level Seven

~Seven~Lust~

"How's sweet Amelia been doing?"

Sam tensed at the question and just sat ridged on the floor with his back against the podium.

"Have you seen her lately?"

He wasn't going to react. Then again, he probably didn't need to. He wasn't looking at the demon, but Sam was certain he took great pleasure at Sam's response... or lack thereof.

"Yep, I'm sure you have. I left that message quite clear. I never figured you as the kind of guy who goes for a screamer, Sammy."

A puff of air escaped Sam's lips and he quickly tried to control his pulse that shot up at the first mention of Amelia's name.

"And how she screamed. I know I never met her before but I made sure I mentioned my name in our introduction."

The timer on Sam's watch beeped. Sam tried to unclench himself from his position to pull another vial of blood from his arm.

"I also mentioned your name," the demon stated as if it was remarked in passing. "Just to make sure she knew about the death sentence on her head. In the end, I made sure she screamed it."

Sam tried not to made eye contact as he approached the demon, but it couldn't be helped. For a split second, Sam saw the delight and pleasure in its eyes.

"Loving a Winchester; that's probably one the of greatest sins of all."

Sam plunged the needle into flesh.


	5. Level Six

~Six~Gluttony~

They both sat in silence. Sam, leaning against the podium, carefully watching the form that was once his brother. From the way it clamped his eyes shut and his rough breath, the demon was trying, and failing, to hold back the pain from whatever was going through its blood right now.

"I understand, you know," Sam whispered. He didn't expect the demon to hear him but, while the eyes were still closed, an eyebrow rose in inquiry.

It was almost like an indulgence to days that were long, long past.

Sam cleared his throat and spoke again. "I understand what you're going through; the thirst, the hunger for power."

He smiled and laughed as if there were good memories when they were anything but. "It never just stops. 'Once an addict always an addict'."

The watch beeped again. Sam slowly and stiffly rose up and reached for the syringe on top of the podium. His hand shook so badly that he needed his other hand to steady his limb. He was going to have to be careful drawing blood going forward, and, no, none of this was okay.

"I did wonder...I wondered why I never went back to demon blood when I had no soul...would have had all of the perks...and none of the emotional setbacks."

He took a deep breath and leaned against the podium to steady himself as he filled the syringe.

"Then, the wall came down and I remembered. I did try it soulless. Once. The stuff didn't work. No thirst. No hunger...And no demon powers."

"Addiction is apparently tied to the soul. It's a part of who I am and something I had to struggle with for the rest of my life. Every day I struggle. It'll be a struggle for you too, once we're done."

Sam carefully walked to the demon and watched as it refused to open its eyes.

"It can be done. If you try. I... think I earned my five year chip this year."

"Why are you telling me this?" the demon asked, sounding bored and nonchalant, but still tried to hide the tremors shaking its body.

'Because I might not be able to tell you later,' he never said when he stuck the needle into the demon's throat like an expert.


End file.
